TOW The Blue Shirt
by OldMondlerLover
Summary: This is my first fanfic. I'm old enough to remember Friends the first time around. I fell in love with Mondler then & in the last year have fallen all over again. This is one of those scene-filler one-shots that takes place right after "London time." I have read similar scenes I liked but this story just wouldn't let me go. Let me know what you think MC fans! BTW - I own nothing!
1. Chapter 1

Monica woke up with a start.

The clock said 2:53 a.m.

She was in her apartment, in her room, in her bed. Her back was to him, his hand over her torso. Her hand covering his.

He'd come back.

"I'm still on London time, does that count?"

She smiled at the memory. They'd kissed and released all the built up tension of the last 24 hours. It had been unbearable, not being able to be with him. And then to see him walk out that door…

But he'd come back and they had both silently decided "to hell with that 'not in New York' rule." They'd broken apart from their kiss long enough for her to say "bedroom." He'd gasped "yes" and they'd made their way clumsily to where they were now. They almost knocked the lamp off the end table in the process. He caught it, she giggled, and they didn't miss a beat heading into her room.

They'd made love with the same fevered passion they had in London - those seven times. Wondering when the other would try to stop it, when it might be over, when the blissful dream was going to end. It amazed her how quickly he brought her to the heights of passion. When they'd both come back down she'd laid her head on his shoulder and he pulled her close.

What happened next left her stunned, confused and completely, utterly overwhelmed.

After several minutes of comfortable silence she had kissed his shoulder. He had kissed her forehead and they'd looked into each other's blue eyes for a long time before they'd started to kiss. And they'd kissed and kissed. Slowly they started to explore each other. For the first time in this new world that had begun just a couple days earlier there was no hurry. There wasn't a rush. They'd taken their time. It had been close to an hour when they finally came together. It had been slow. It had been romantic. It had been loving. It had been sensual. And it had been Chandler.

After they had made love that second, beautiful time that evening he pulled her close and held her back against his chest both resting on their right side. The exhaustion of nights with no sleep, the emotion of Ross' disastrous wedding, jet-lag and lovemaking had finally taken their toll. She'd heard his even breathing and knew he had fallen asleep.

That's when she allowed the silent tears she had been holding back to fall.

No one - not even Richard - had ever made love to her with such…tenderness. By the time they'd finally made love, she felt like she was drunk. She had been so dizzy, so high on the feelings that threatened to engulf her. She was almost glad he'd fallen asleep. She had to sort out her mind, and her heart. This whole tryst had taken on a whole new meaning.

And truth be told, she was scared.

This was why she hadn't wanted to date him last year, because she knew with Chandler it would never just be a little romance and a little sex. She cared about him too much. He cared about her too much. It would be "all in." And she knew from experience that now, especially after tonight, she was already falling.

Suddenly it hit her why she had woken up. Nature was calling. She was naked so she cast a glance around the room for something to wear to the bathroom. Their clothes were scattered everywhere. Resisting the urge to tidy up, she just smiled and then spotted his button down blue shirt barely clinging to the corner of the comforter at the bottom of the bed. She grabbed it, put it on and started buttoning every other button quickly and quietly. She breathed in the smell of him on the shirt and smiled again as she slowly rose from bed and made her way through the moonlight to the bathroom.

Chandler's sleepy eyes glanced at the alarm clock on Monica's nightstand. 2:57 a.m.

She wasn't in bed with him, but he'd heard the bathroom door shut. He looked through the darkness at the ceiling.

"Oh my God," he whispered. He couldn't believe the last few hours, the last few days. Was she really with him? Had they really been together nine times in 48 hours? Would his heart ever beat in a normal rhythm when he looked at her, ever again?

He'd taken such a big risk heading back into her apartment. He just couldn't let it go. He didn't want to let her go, didn't want it to end, but he wasn't sure what she would want. He smiled. It didn't take long to get an answer to his question. He couldn't believe she'd wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was like a dream. And tonight had been fast and furious and unbelievably hot, then slow and intoxicating. He hadn't exactly meant for it to be, but my God it was. It was incredible.

In a way he knew he'd wanted her to know what his heart was telling him but his brain couldn't find the words to say. So he let his body do the talking and drank in every ounce of her the second time they'd made love. He knew the memories of the last three days would be imprinted on his heart forever. He wanted his mind and her body to remember them as well.

He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on and decided he should avail himself of the facilities as well. He searched in the dark for his boxers. He found them and his white t-shirt and put them on as he made his way into the hall by the window.

Monica caught her image in the mirror at the sink. Her hair was somewhat disheveled (the memory of him taking out her hair clips and running his fingers through her dark hair sent shivers down her spine), her cheeks were flushed and she was wearing his shirt. She hadn't seen herself look that alive in a long time. She opened the door still smiling when she caught his figure coming out of her bedroom and stepping into the moonlight from the big picture window. His hair was sticking up and he was wearing his t-shirt and boxers. He looked so sexy. Then he gave her a shy smile and she never thought he'd looked more adorable.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said walking over to him slowly.

Chandler had never seen a sexier sight. There Monica stood, with only his shirt - HIS shirt - on, smiling at him, her blue eyes shining through the darkness. He felt his heart speed up, again, and could barely form a complete thought, let alone words. He gave her a sheepish grin.

"You…you didn't," he stammered, pointing at the bathroom door. "I just had to…well…too."

She blushed. "Oh, of course."

She stepped out of the way as he brushed past her and shut the door behind him.

Monica started to head back into her bedroom when a thought suddenly struck her. What if he decided to go back to his apartment now? What if spending the whole night was too much for him? It was understandable that they would fall asleep but to deliberately stay?

So she decided to stay right where she was. She had to know. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to hold her.

Chandler opened the door and an inaudible gasp escaped his lips. She was looking out the window. She was waiting for him. He stepped out into the moonlight, his eyes silently questioning her.

"I thought you might go…want to go," she whispered, looking down and fiddling with the bottom hem of his shirt.

Go? He thought. God, no. But did she want him to go?

"No, I…" he said, quickly, then in a whisper, "do you want me to go?"

She looked up at him then and just shook her head "no."

He took a couple strides to where she was standing by the window. She looked so beautiful and so vulnerable. He just wanted to hold her.

So he did.

He reached out and cupped the right side of her face. She looked at him and her eyes gave her away. This meant something to her. Thank God, he thought, because it meant everything to him.

"God, you are beautiful," he said in a dreamy voice, searching her face. She smiled as she looked up at him. The light from outside made his ice blue eyes look like clear crystal, How? How had she never noticed how beautiful he was before?

"So are you," she said. He gave her that little lopsided grin she had really always loved and leaned in to kiss her. Soft, slow kisses. When they pulled away, arms wrapped around each other, she laid her head on his chest. Soon she felt like she was sleeping standing up. Chandler stifled a yawn and then whispered " let's go back to sleep."

"Mmmm," Monica murmured as Chandler led her to the bedroom. The clock read 3:18 a.m.

They climbed into bed and settled in just as they had before, her back against his chest, both holding on for dear life. Completely content, they both fell asleep.

It was 8:17 a.m. when Chandler woke, catching the sun come through the window. With the early morning light he moaned a little as he realized he really would have to leave soon. Joey would wonder where he was. And even if Joey wasn't up until noon, Phoebe would be there before too long, wanting to talk to Monica about all the details of Ross and Emily's wedding.

He looked over at Monica and gently ran his hand down her arm. A feeling of calmness came over him. He knew, now, that this was the beginning. This wasn't going to end today. Whatever it was was going to continue and they'd figure out where it was going, together. He smiled. Slowly he got off the bed, put on his khakis and threw his jacket on over his t-shirt. Gathering his belt and shoes. He then knelt by the bed and kissed Monica. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him.

"Morning," he smiled.

"Morning," she murmured.

"It's about quarter after 8," he explained. "I figured I'd better go back to my place, before Joey wakes up or Phoebe shows up."

She nodded. "We'd have an awful lot of explaining to do."

"Yes," he said, looking into her eyes and wondering for the millionth time how they ever got so blue.

She kissed him. "I'll see you in a couple of hours for breakfast?"

"Yes," he said again. "And tonight?"

She sat up slowly and circled her arms around his neck.

"Yes," she whispered. Oh God, yes.

They hugged and kissed once again before Chandler reluctantly pulled away. "I really better go."

She nodded. "Oh wait," she said. "I have your shirt."

"No," he smiled, stopping her from pulling it over her head. "It looks a whole lot better on you anyway. Get some more sleep."

With a quick peck on her lips he walked out of the bedroom and closed the door. In seconds she heard the apartment door close behind him.

She breathed in the scent of his shirt and smiled to herself. She didn't know where she and Chandler were headed, but she did know now that they were headed somewhere. It wasn't over. He was her best friend and it felt risky and right and exhilarating all at the same time. No, she didn't know where they were headed exactly, but she knew two things for certain - she would never forget London - or last night - for as long as she lived.

And he was never getting his blue shirt back.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I never, ever expected to write another chapter to this fic. And this will be the ONLY extra chapter, I promise. But, I'm working on a Mondler AU right now and all these ideas keep flashing into my head. This one's been there for a while and I thought, what the heck. Seems like we could use one more missing scene one-shot here, right? Sure. And I think it's kinda hot. ;) Hope you enjoy it!**

Chandler had come back for breakfast, with Joey, who had come home from his date about 15 minutes after Chandler left Monica's apartment. Phoebe showed up at Monica's a half hour later.

The morning was spent talking about the wedding. Phoebe wanted every little detail of what happened and kept asking all kinds of questions. Joey was talking about his bridesmaid. Chandler and Monica were trying desperately not to stare at each other and engage in the conversation with their friends. Most of the time, they were failing.

Everyone ran errands after lunch. Monica to the grocery, Chandler to get his hair trimmed and pick up dry cleaning. Rachel called Monica in the afternoon, livid that Ross had abandoned her on a plane to Greece. It was late there and she was staying in the Gellers honeymoon suite for the night. She was on standby for the first fight back to New York in the morning. Ross arrived about 4 p.m. He'd lost Emily at the airport and boarded the next flight back home.

Chandler, Joey and Phoebe arrived about 5:30 for dinner and stayed as Ross lamented his circumstances over and over again. Finally about 8:30 Joey said he'd take a pregnant and very tired Phoebe home since he was meeting the girl he hooked up with the night before over in her neighborhood anyway. Ross stayed until a little after 9, jet-lag finally catching up with him. He decided he would go home, get some sleep, and try to start calling England again early in the morning.

Monica walked him out to the hall. He waved to Chandler and hugged his sister goodbye.

Monica closed the door and automatically flipped the deadbolt.

"I can't believe Emily," she said, coming around the counter and taking plates from the table over to the sink. "I mean, she won't even talk to him?"

Chandler reached for the remaining dishes on the table, placing them next to her at the sink.

"I know," he said, setting down the dishes and moving directly behind her, his left hand resting on her shoulder. "I feel bad for him."

"Yeah..." she replied, but she was now barely breathing and all thoughts began to escape her mind. She could only concentrate on his heat behind her and his hand on her shoulder. He'd come to dinner in a black button down shirt and blue jeans, his hair freshly cut. She'd barely been able to keep her eyes off him all through dinner. All of a sudden he looked unbelievably hot to her - still cute, adorable Chandler - her best friend - but also the sexy man who she couldn't wait to get back into her bed.

And every time she looked at him tonight he was staring at her. She would swear the whole room had to know, but no one hinted at all that they did...

"But," he said in that low, husky voice that had begun to affect her in a way she could almost not comprehend. "I thought they'd never leave…"

She turned to him in a flash and his lips were on hers, his hands pulling her hard against him. She melted into his unbelievable kiss. This was heaven - she was completely convinced. She'd spent all day trying to keep her mind off him, off of the night before and London. But she'd folded his unwashed blue shirt and put it at the bottom of her underwear drawer, never having done anything like that before.

Because of him she was starting to not do laundry?! What was next?

She broke away, feeling her knees go weak and her body heat up at an alarming rate.

"What are you doing to me, Chandler Bing?" she breathed, their lips still touching, her hands raking over his hair and down his shoulders. She felt him smirk.

"Seducing you," he whispered back. "Is it working?"

"Ummm…" she captured his lips once again before he started running his tongue along her jaw line, making her shiver as his lips found her neck.

"Besides, I'm your prisoner," he said playfully as his lips kept finding the place just under her ear he'd learned over the last few days she wanted them to find.

"What?" she muttered, distractedly.

"You locked me in," he chuckled, trailing kisses along her collarbone as she threw her head back.

"Did I?"

"Ummm…"

"Planning ahead…"

He lifted his face to hers and smiled before kissing her again. He thought if he died right then he'd be fine. Well, a little pissed that he didn't get to complete what was sure to be another mind-blowing night of sex with the hottest woman he'd ever known, but he'd die happy. The night before had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. It had felt perfect having her sleep in his arms until dawn.

She'd filled his thoughts every second of every minute all day long. He felt like he was literally living for this moment with her.

She was wearing a knee length sun dress, in colors of blue that matched her eyes. Her hair was down. His breath had caught when he first walked in the apartment for dinner. If their friends hadn't been there he would have picked her up and carried her to the bedroom right then and there.

And now, the way she moved her hands through his hair and around his body when they kissed was driving him insane.

"You're good at that…planning ahead," he said, pulling her away from the kitchen and toward the couch. It was her turn to smirk against his lips.

"You have no idea…"

His hands traveled down past her waist and across her backside and he gasped. She giggled.

"Shit, Mon," he mumbled, so turned on at this point he was afraid he wouldn't make it five more minutes. She was going commando.

"Planning ahead," she murmured.

She inhaled sharply as he suddenly grabbed the top of her thighs just below her butt and lifted her off the ground. She threw her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, which automatically pushed her dress up, their lips never parting. He turned and softly, yet forcefully laid her on the couch, moving on top of her, his erection painful again his jeans.

She moved to free him, unbuttoning and unzipping as fast as she could.

"Condom?" she asked, breathless.

"Back pocket," he whispered in a ragged voice, grinning. He could plan ahead, too…

She grinned back, reached both hands around his ass and found it. Pushing his jeans and boxers down just far enough, she ripped the package open. Shaking, she put it on him, desperate to have him inside her.

The moment he was ready, he entered her and they both let out moans of pleasure. Her orgasm came at the speed of light and she went crashing over the moment he entered into his.

When it was over he collapsed on top of her, both of them almost fully clothed, except where their bodies met. Breathing heavily he tried to move off her, but she held him close. He melted into her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

"Oh my God," he said, once they'd both caught their breath, pushing himself up slightly and staring into her eyes. He'd never wanted anyone like he wanted her.

"I know," she whispered, staring right back at him and feeling the exact same way.

Monica woke up in her bed when she'd heard noises in the kitchen. At first she thought they'd slept til morning, but a glance at the alarm clock confirmed it was the middle of the night. Chandler wasn't next to her.

They'd moved from the couch to the bedroom and resumed lovemaking until exhaustion had worn them down. It seemed to her that sleep was the only thing that stopped them from wanting each other again and again. The profound need to be together was just too much to fight.

Slowly she left the bed and pulled her robe on, wondering what he could possibly be doing in the kitchen. Quietly she opened the bedroom door and what she saw brought tears to her eyes.

Chandler was at the sink in only his boxers, finishing up cleaning the dishes. He continued on, not hearing the door open as he reached up to put some plates away, his back to her.

She stood still in the dark and watched him, amazed that such a simple act could touch her so much. This was her friend, the guy who knew that waking up to dirty dishes would have made her go crazy. So he got up in the middle of the night to wash them and put them away.

And it was then that she knew.

She knew whatever this was would last as long as he wanted it to last, because she didn't want it to end. They knew each other so well, their friendship making everything easier than it would have been with anyone else. He knew she'd be appalled that the dirty dishes were left overnight. She knew that if they continued he would eventually freak out, because that's what he did. But she promised herself that she would be patient. Because this was worth it. The man cleaning up her kitchen was totally worth it.

As he put the last of the dried dishes away she quietly closed the door and tip-toed back to bed, taking her robe off and placing it back where it was. She wasn't going to ruin the surprise for him. She wiped her eyes and feigned sleep. Moments later she heard him come in and climb back into bed with her, pulling her to him.

"Ummm…where'd you go?" she asked, sleepily.

"Nowhere," he said as he kissed her hair. "Go back to sleep."

She sighed.

"Real life starts again tomorrow," she said, sadly. "Work. And Rachel will be home in the morning…"

"I know," he murmured as she turned to face him. "We'll have to start being more careful then."

He looked at her expression in the dark, holding his breath. He wanted to be with her - but only her. He didn't want their friends finding out. He wanted to keep it between them. Because what was happening between them was better than anything he'd ever known and if the pressure got to be too much he'd do something to ruin it, he was sure. But he could show her a side to him that he only wanted her to see, if they kept it between them.

"We will," she said, smiling at him. "We'll find a way."

He kissed her softly.

"I'll set the alarm for seven," he said quietly. "Then I'll go get ready for work. Joey either won't be home or won't be awake by then."

She nodded as he reached over to set the clock.

"What time is Rachel's flight due in?" he asked.

"7:45, I think," she said. "She should be back here before 9."

He nodded again as she snuggled into his embrace.

"Good night, Mon," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Good night, Chandler."


End file.
